


Lost and Found

by orphan_account



Series: Delivery [4]
Category: EastEnders
Genre: Gen, Parallel Universe, Series, genfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little fingers in the pie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lost And Found

 

Well, no, he hadn't exactly run away – not exactly – just walked out without letting anyone know, without telling anyone where he was going. There weren't that many places he _could_ go, so it shouldn't take them long to find him. Of course he had a bit of time since they wouldn't expect him to go to Syed. He and Syed were close, but not that close, but more than anything they wouldn't expect him to have the initiative to actually get on a train and find his way to Syed's university. He snorted to himself: no, of course not since they regarded him – and treated him – like a child. He was bloody fed up with it. No wonder Syed had been so keen to get out! It's just hat he hadn't appreciated until now just how much pressure Sued had been under, and how much of a buffer he'd presented between Tamwar and his parents' ambitions.

They were obsessed with it – with their kids being successful: making good marriages and moving up in the world. You'd have thought the fact that he had two older siblings for them to obsess over would have let him off somewhat, but apparently Shabnam didn't count, being female and all that. Couldn’t believe his mother's attitude: _he_ was more of a feminist than she was! She seemed happy enough to rule her own little kingdom, run her business without any input from his dad, but woe betide any woman who tried to do the same! She was a hypocrite, and it was only lately that he'd begun to see just how much of a hypocrite she could be, only lately that her hypocrisy had started having an impact on his life...

 

**

Syed probably wouldn't _immediately_ put him on the next train back home, but he could sometimes be a bit of a mummy’s boy. They all knew he was their mum's favourite – her obsession – and it was likely that he'd be all about how it would look and feel for mum, which wasn't good news for him. Still, it was worth the excursion – and the gesture. He needed to put in a protest somehow and this seemed as good a method as any.

He'd been to the University before, told in no uncertain terms, of course, that _he_ wouldn't be allowed to go that far from home (personally didn't see 60 miles as that bloody far!), but at least he was familiar with the town now. Syed had been living closer to the university then, of course, and since Tamwar had no instructions on how to get to his new place had to use logic, and when he got hopelessly lost, his voice – to ask for directions.

He'd removed the sim from his phone and since he obviously couldn't risk replacing it didn't even have the option of ringing his brother to ask for help. In any case he figured it was better to just turn up, not give Syed any excuses to get in touch with mum before he had a chance to throw himself on his mercy. Though what he expected from his brother he honestly couldn't even say...

 

**

The first surprise was the girl who opened the door. She had short blonde hair, tattooed arms and face piercings, staring up at him through thick mascara and a too-long fringe.

“Er...”

“Help you?” She'd seemed a little hostile at first but she was smiling a little now, giving the completely _opposite_ impression from his initial read.

“Syed? I thought Syed Masood-”

Opening the door wider she said: “Syed? Yeah, come in.” She turned , started walking down the hall, apparently expecting him to follow.

The only reason he came in and shut the door behind him was because it seemed rude not to, and if there was anything he was sure about in social situations it was that it was more than his life was worth to be caught being rude...

The house was big and modern, well decorated and really warm. He could hear music and the sound of male laughter coming from the back of the house and found himself becoming a little reticent: he wasn't great in social gatherings at the best of times, and in this situation, landing on his brother unexpectedly like this, the awkwardness would surely be tripled. But he wasn't going to make it any _worse_ for Syed than it had to be.

Following her as swiftly as he could Tamwar hesitated only briefly at the door of what he assumed had to be the lounge, wondering how, exactly, Syed would react to his presence.

“It's Syed's brother,” he heard the girl say, and frowned a little since it seemed to him that she'd not been addressing the room at large but one person in particular, but as this impression made no real sense he dismissed it a moment later.

Steeling himself he came quickly through the door, centring all his attention on the only person he knew – the tattooed girl. She was facing him, smiling, but making no further effort to take responsibility for him. So, he'd probably have to do that himself then. Looking up, taking in the room, he said: “I'm Tamwar – Syed's brother.”

“Hi, Tamwar,” came the chorus of response. “Sit down,” someone suggested.

“Thanks.” Looking around he saw that it was more than a lounge: kitchen too – obviously a place where they all gathered...and there was a lot of them gathered right now. Of course he couldn't absolutely _swear_ that they _all_ lived there...

They were all male – aside from the blonde girl – and all of them save one _looked_ like they lived there. The only criteria Tamwar was using to make this assessment was manner of dress: everyone was dressed in t-shirt or casual shirt, jogging bottoms or jeans - casual , relaxed as if for a day lounging around the house. Everyone, that is, except the guy in the leather jacket, who looked like he was going out on the town – well-dressed, well- groomed (Tamwar could smell his cologne from the other side of the room - sweet, but very masculine). And he was staring at Tamar where the others were pretty much getting on with their own thing.

Tamwar elected to sit on one of the hard kitchen chairs closest to him rather than make himself at home in one of the large sofas scattered around the room.

It occurred to him that no-one had bothered to tell Syed he was there.

And where _was_ Syed anyway?

 

**

The guy wearing the jacket engaged him in conversation.

Now, Tamwar really hated being the centre of attention, but the guy knew what he was doing: 5 minutes after being asked to pretty much tell his life story to a room full of strangers, Tamwar found himself unselfconsciously holding court, entertaining the entire room, any remaining traces of reticence long gone.

No names had been exchanged, but that didn’t matter – he was enjoying himself, felt that these people were unlikely to regard him as Syed's annoying little brother now or at any time in the future, which must _surely_ be a triumph of sorts.

“You want to be a doctor?” This from the tattooed girl, who seemed to be called Lou.

He frowned at her. What? Now what, in the ten minutes they'd been listening to him talk, had given her the idea he wanted to be a doctor! “Well, no, not really. I was thinking more on the lines of journalism or anything in the media.”

There was what he could only described as a moment of astonished silence at this before the leather jacketed guy made an impressed face. “That's brilliant. Wow! I wish I'd been that focused and switched on at your age, Tamwar. If I had been I might not have ended up working in retail.”

Someone snorted. “Yeah, and the rest. There's retail and then there's retail. You don't exactly work in a corner shop, Chris.”

“I don't, no, but still I did waste quite a lot of time not really enjoying what I was doing and wishing I'd actually stayed in school for longer than 5 minutes.”

“Well, uni isn't all it's cracked up to be.” A chorus of agreement greeted this statement. “At least you didn't have to spend the greater part of your working life paying off your student loans! That takes quite a lot of the shine off things, let me tell you.”

“Fair enough, but I do still wish I'd had least given myself the _opportunity_.”

“And _I_ wish I'd started working at 16.”

“Well you _say_ that, but it's no fun being the office teaboy, not being taken seriously because of your age and lack of qualifications.”

“Don't care. I'm just glad that this year's my final year. Not gonna encourage _any_ of my kinds to go to uni if they don't want to. Loads of people make it without going to uni. I wish _I_ hadn’t bloody listened to all the hype...”

“John, people do manage to pay off their loans, you know.”

“Yeah? And what about those who don't get a high paying job straight off the bat? You spend all your time, energy and future earnings getting an education that'll ultimately prove bloody useless. It's all a bloody con!”

“Take no notice, Tamwar – it's John's time of the month.” This from a slightly overweight guy with bright ginger hair. The silence became deafening and Tamwar could tell by the looks shot the ginger guy's way that the general consensus was that he'd overstepped the mark. But the offender appeared to take this in his stride, grinning at Tamwar before qualifying his statement. “Sorry. I meant he's in the middle of exams and it shows. Bit grumpy. Aren't you, John?”

John shrugged. “Just telling it like it is.”

“But don't let it put you off, Tamwar.” This from the leather jacket guy who, for some reason, appeared to have taken a shine to him. “Not everyone sees going to university as a mistake.” John's loud snort was ignored. “Your brother, for instance. I don't think he regrets his two years here.”

Tamwar shrugged. He didn't have an opinion on that, after all – Syed kept most of _his_ thoughts strictly to himself. “I need to go to uni to get the job I want, so...”

The leather jacketed guy smiled at him. “That's the spirit. You're actually quite a lot like-” Tamwar presumed that the sentence was going to end in 'Syed – you're quite a lot like Syed', but that would forever remain speculation since it was never completed. Leather Jacket broke off as a door in the far corner opened and Syed came rushing into the room, looking entirely different to the way Tamwar remembered him. It took a little while for Tamwar to clock that it was the hair, the clothes – oh and the look of joy plastered on his face – that made this guy almost unrecognisable as his miserable older brother.

Rising instinctively, he was taken aback when Leather Jacket did the same, putting a hand out as though to hold Syed back as he said without preamble. “Your brother's here.”

Frowning, Syed looked around and when their eyes met stared in what Tamwar could only label absolute horror as the reality of his presence sunk in.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Tamwar, what are you doing here? What's happened?” Syed rushed over to him, panic clear on his face.

Oops. Hadn't exactly occurred to him that Syed would see his presence there as a sign that something was very badly wrong. He couldn’t – surely – think that he would have come in person to deliver bad family news. Why would anyone even trust him to do that anyway? “It's okay, Syed, nothing's wrong. Well, not really wrong as such. Me and mum just had a bit of a difference of opinion, that's all, nothing to worry about.”

Syed had these eyes, sort of nice and gentle most of the time, but they _could_ become dark and angry, and not very nice at all, really. It wasn't often you'd see them – he had a bit of a short temper at times (like mum) but mostly he was calm – miserable, but calm. He wasn't calm now: he was, in fact, sort of furious... “Nothing to worry about? What do you mean; nothing to worry about! What are you _doing_ here, Tam?”

Syed rarely shouted at him, treated him quite fondly much of the time, but this time, for some reason... 

Tamwar stared back at him, lip involuntarily quivering. He'd known he'd be in trouble for running away, but hadn't expected the trouble to come from Syed; he'd expected Syed to be at least a _little_ understanding. He _knew_ what mum was like, so should be able to understand what might have prompted Tamwar's actions. And besides, it was mortifying being treated like a little kid in front of Syed's friends...

“Well Tamwar's been entertaining us in your protracted absence, Syed.” The guy wearing the leather jacket had stepped forward until he was standing just beyond Syed's furious form. He gave Tamwar an encouraging smile. “I, for one, am grateful for the light relief.”

There was a chorus of agreement at this and surprised, he looked round at the others, seeing genuine expressions of admiration on their faces.

“He is 12 years old-”

“Excuse me – _14_!” God, he was a _teenager_! How dare Syed make him seem like he was still a kid!

“And he has no business travelling up here by himself!” Oh he was _definitely_ going to tell mum at the first opportunity; judging by the fury in his eyes he was going to take him home himself!

“Syed, could we maybe have a private conversation or something?” Tamwar could sense that Syed was about to say: 'I don't bloody think so!' or words to that effect...

“Oh we'll have a private conversation alright! Come on!” Turning, Syed headed back the way he'd come, clearly expecting Tamwar to follow.

“Sy, come one – give him a fair hearing.” The guy wearing the jacket had put a hand squarely on Syed's chest, halting his progress. He'd lowered his voice, but not in the hope of keeping their exchange private, probably more in the manner of a horse whisperer or something – someone trying to calm an infuriated animal. “He came to see you.” Tamwar couldn't see the look Syed was giving him, only the look the guy was giving Syed. He was pretty sure it was going to be effective – it would certainly have been effective on him! “Go on, hear him out.” Tamwar interpreted that to mean: 'be nice' and was again really grateful to this stranger for taking his side. He assumed he was a good friend of Syed's; he certainly seemed pretty sure of his influence over him, which was good since, unlike Syed, he seemed like a really nice guy...

Although everyone in the room was allowing this drama to play itself out they didn't seem particularly _interested_ , almost seemed to be waiting for Syed to get on with whatever he'd decide to do so they could get back to whatever they'd been doing prior to his arrival.

Tamwar wondered again why it was that no-one had even bothered to announce his arrival. Obviously they'd known that Syed would be coming downstairs fairly promptly (judging by the way he looked – and smelled – he was going out that evening) but still, he'd have expected the arrival of a visitor to be _announced_ all the same. His mother would have been horrified by this failure in etiquette – as well as a host of other things, not the least of which was the fact that there was a girl apparently sharing a house with males who were not related to her!

Syed turned from the leather jacketed guy without answering, but when Tamwar met his eyes he could see that the furious light had dimmed somewhat. Now there was a possibility that he might _not_ be sent packing on the next available train! He'd probably have to come up with a really, really good story now, though – a _better_ one than the bald truth...

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

“A difference of opinion? Come on, Tam, not good enough.”

Syed's room was upstairs, and very, very nice by the look of things, only he wasn't going to be allowed the space to properly admire if Syed's expression – and body language – was anything to go by... “Er...”

“You know what she's like.” His voice had calmed somewhat, but he still seemed a bit irritated. “You're not supposed to take what she says to heart.”

Well, considering that Syed wasn't privy to what had been said Tamwar didn't really see how he could rightly _make_ a statement like that. “She wants me to have extra tutoring!” Even the memory of that 'conversation' was making him hot under the collar.

Syed's expression didn't alter. “And that's why you ran away,” he said flatly, unimpressed.

“I didn't 'run away'!” he protested. “I'm not a child!”

“No? Well from where I'm standing...”

“I thought you'd understand, Syed. I remember all the arguments you and mum used to have; why is alright for me to put up with the stuff she does when it wasn't for you?”

Syed gave a snort of laughter. “I didn't put up with her crap? Where were _you_ living then?”

“Yes, but you usually got your way; you could always get round her. I can't and Shabnam can't.” He hoped he didn't sound like he was accusing him of something, but he sort of felt that he kind of was – in a way.

Syed shrugged, still far from impressed, clearly getting ready to tell him that he simply didn't have a good enough reason for being there. “I don't have any secrets, Tam. I had to learn to compromise – let her win some battles, be prepared to lose a few skirmishes. Didn't always work, but I had to learn to give a little.”

“I give all the time, though, Syed and all it does is make her harder on me. She doesn't _ever_ lose any of the battles – that's the problem! I can't compromise because when I do she just sees it as a sort of justification for running my entire life!” He could tell by Syed's face that he was whining, acting like the kid Syed felt him to be. But he couldn't help it though – it _was_ unfair – damn unfair!

“Tamwar, you are 13-”

“Syed, I am 14 years old! How do you not know how old I am!”

“I do. Sorry. I just forget sometimes.”

“I'm 14, my birthday's in October; I was born five years after you; my name is Tamwar; I live in Burnley; I have a sister called-”

“Okay, Tam, I think you've made your point.” But he was smiling and for the first time since he'd set eyes on Syed that day Tam felt _connected_ to his brother. “You're a pain in the neck, do you know that?”

“I don't. I know that you're always _saying_ that, which isn't the same as knowing it to be true.”

“Perfect example right there. Why so pedantic? No idea where you get it from.”

Tamwar stared at him. “You're joking, right? You used to drive mum mad the way you used to deliberately take everything she said _literally_!”

And at last Syed laughed, sitting down on the neat single bed and inviting Tamwar to take one of the two chairs in the room. “You're supposed to follow my _good_ examples, not my bad ones!”

“Well you should have let me in on that one.” The bed was a lot firmer than his, and the duvet cover wasn't one he thought his mum would have bought, so Syed must have bought it himself. “This is nice.”

“What, the room? Yes, it is, I was lucky to get a room here. It's mostly final year students living here.”

“Hmm. They're alright, quite nice.”

Syed looked at him much as if to say: don't bother fishing, you'll get _nothing_ in these waters. “Yeah, nicer than my last flatmates. So,” His demeanour signalled the change of direction so Tamwar was prepared. “What exactly happened? Where do they think you are? I know they don’t think you're with me...” Syed didn't say that it was because they still regarded him as a kid and therefore would never make the leap into assuming that he'd taken the bold step of actually getting on a train and travelling to another town all by himself! “So where do they think you've gone?”

It took Tamwar a little while to work out that Syed assumed that he'd left a note, not actually saying where he _intended_ to go, just making up a lie about where he'd gone. Oh. Shouldn’t be that surprised, though, that was probably the sort of thing Syed himself would have done in the same situation. “Well I'm not exactly sure they sort of know exactly where I might have gone.”

Syed frowned. “What do you mean? You didn't tell anyone you were going?”

Well, running away didn't generally include leaving pointers to where you were heading – kind of defeated the purpose... “I was really fed up and I maybe sort of just decided to get on the train...”

Syed stared at him for a very long time. “She will never forgive you for scaring her like this, Tam.” The unspoken: 'how could you?' hung in the air between them.

Well he personally thought it was unfair, but he supposed that from Syed's point of view, in all the years he and their mother had clashed he'd never actually run away from home, clearly didn't see it as any kind of option. Tamwar did feel a sense of shame, but his mum wouldn't have been able to make him feel that way, it was Syed's expression – and words – that did the trick. “I just snapped. Syed, she just wasn't listening to a _word_ I said!”

Syed sighed, and Tamwar saw with some regret that the miserable expression had returned. “I know, Tam, but it's not fair to worry her that way. You want to punish her- No.” He put out a hand to stop him speaking. “We both know that's why you did it, and I don't blame you, Tam, it's just that it's wrong.”

Well that was him told: seems that it didn’t matter what she put him through, how powerless she made him feel, at the end of the day he would _always_ be wrong – any action he took to at least _try_ to make his little voice heard, so long as it might result in his mum getting hurt, was condemned. Didn’t matter that he was hurt by her every single day, that the only reason he'd done this was to plead for someone to help his cause. No, he was just supposed to grin and bear it, allow her to completely control him, beat him down until he had no fight left – turn into their father... 

Not able to meet Syed's gaze he kept his own gaze fixed on the expensive wood floor.

“Tam,” Syed's voice was gentle, and Tamwar looked up when he felt his brother's hand at the nape of his neck. “I'll talk to her, but you've got to go home. I'll tell her it was my idea; that I asked you to come up; that I meant to phone her to let her know, but got distracted.”

“No, I don't want you to take the blame.”

“Look, it's not just for your sake – it's for hers, too. It'd kill her if she thought you'd run away from her; this way she thinks it was just me being thoughtless and you being young enough to like adventure.” He was grinning as the story began to form in his mind. “I gave you a mobile phone last Christmas or something- don't worry, I've got a spare I could give you – and we've been in contact. On a whim I phoned you out of the blue and like the irresponsible older brother I am forced you to get on the train and spend the day with me.”

Tamwar had begun to smile a little, infected by Syed's enjoyment of his ability to fabricate on the fly. Tamwar could see now why he'd been able to get away with so much when he was living at home, mostly without running foul of their mother: he was basically a liar – a very good one! Tamwar wasn't, didn't have that ability at all, which was why their mother had been able to make life so hard for him. He'd had to run away simply because he honestly couldn't rely on his ability to fabricate a damn thing to make his life easier – running had seemed the only straightforward option.

He could see why running had never been an option for Syed – he had too many other, clever tricks up his sleep to ever get anywhere near to needing to use that one.

“She'll shout,” he warned.

Syed put an arm around him. “Oh if you'd ever had a lecture with my physics professor you'd see why mum shouting holds no fears for me.”

Tamwar's eyes widened. “Really?” Syed must be exaggerating: how could a teacher be as bad as their mum? They'd be sacked, surely.

“Really. In fact...” Reaching into the side pocket of his jeans he retrieved his mobile phone and started tapping the screen. “I have evidence!”

Fascinated, Tamwar watched as Syed cued up a series of videos...


	4. Chapter 4

Since Syed was smiling again, in a good mood, Tamwar decided that he may as well try to see if casting his line might, this time, come up with, if not a shoal of fish, then at least a few tiddlers. “That guy, the one in the leather jacket is he a student?” Obviously he knew he wasn't – the guy had said as much - but it was a conversation starter and he reckoned that Syed wouldn't think he was _prying_. Syed had always been very closed mouthed when it came to talking about his friends and Tamwar had been conditioned _not_ to ask. His hope was that Syed might have become a little more flexible in this matter.

Syed looked hard at him, reading him. Tamwar, used to this, didn't fidget under the scrutiny. He wasn't prying, so had no need to feel guilty or uncomfortable. “He isn't, no.” He returned his attention to his phone.

“So he used to be?” When Syed's cool gaze met his, he elaborated. “I mean is that why he's living here, because he used to be a student?”

“He doesn't live here.”

Well Tamwar hadn't been sure – he seemed like he _might_ live there. “He's nice.”

Syed frowned at him, a suspicious look on his face. “How do you mean?”

Now it was Tamwar's turn to look puzzled. “What other way is there to mean: 'he's nice'? I mean I don't know him, but he seems like a nice person.”

Syed held his gaze for way longer than Tamwar felt was warranted, still reading him, though why he'd come under suspicion for what he felt was an innocuous, not to say  _obvious_ , remark he was still trying to understand. “He is.”

Well blood from a stone or what? Did he think Tamwar was going to try to make friends with his friends? He'd made that mistake once – when he was  _9_ for goodness sake. Not like he hadn't grown up since then. “Yeah, he was really nice to me earlier.”

“Why, what did he say?”

Tamwar shrugged. It had just been a throwaway remark: why the interrogation? “Just asked me about myself, made me feel comfortable. I don't know, just nice. Not that the others weren't,” he added hastily. “But he was the one who tried hardest.” Well that wasn't exactly accurate: it wasn't that he tried harder than the others, more that it came more naturally to him; not just being polite, genuinely caring about putting him at ease. There were some people who were simply nice – the guy in the leather jacket seemed to be one of them. “I don't even know his name...”

Well this was a standard cue for the other person in the conversation to say something like: 'oh his name's Peter' or something as simple, natural and effortless as that. Syed chose to ignore the cue. “Do you want to look around the town before I take you back?”

Since Tamwar was, after all, accustomed to his miserable brother he didn't even blink at this abrupt change of focus. “I can't stay the night?”

Syed's gaze became steely. “No, you can't.”

“Even if I offer to I don't know, wash up the dishes for you all?”

Syed smiled. “Oh, so you've learnt how not to break mum's best plates then?”

“Well, not exactly learnt how not to – all the _time_ – just learnt to hide the evidence better.”

“And you have still got a _lot_ to learn, Tam.” He was laughing now, ruffling Tamwar's hair in the certainty that this would _still_ annoy him. “Honesty isn't always the best policy. You should have assured me that you absolutely _never_ break plates these days.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but you're my brother – you're the one person I'd _never_ lie to.”

It had been an innocuous remark – or so he thought – so why Syed then stared at him like he'd just sprouted another head he had no idea...

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

There was a noticeably different atmosphere when he and Syed walked back into the living room. The guy wearing the leather jacket was no longer sitting, but had moved into the kitchen area, and appeared to be making something. He was no longer wearing the jacket, the sleeves of a crisp, expensive-looking shirt rolled up to give him a neat, casual look. He looked up when they entered, and smiled. “Fancy some?” He pointed to the steaming pot.

“Depends.” Syed left Tamwar's side and moved to join the guy in the kitchen. He inhaled the air. “Soup?”

“Absolutely.”

“No dinner?” This was said really quietly, in a throw away kind of way, but Tamwar guessed that it probably wasn't actually all that _casual_ at all.

The guy looked at Syed's profile, but instead of answering turned his attention to Tamwar. He looked different without his jacket - even cooler. Tamwar hadn't told Syed he thought his friend was cool, but he did, he really did. “Want some, Tamwar?”

“What is it?” He moved forward, stopping just short of the kitchen area.

“Soup – just plain chicken, but home-made. Really nice.”

“I am a bit hungry. Any bread to go with it?”

“Tamwar!” Syed scolded.

“What? I'm hungry!”

The guy laughed. “Yeah, there's bread.” Then addressing no-one in particular asked: “Isn't there?”

“No idea.”

“I don't eat bread.”

“I know there's brown, I bought some the other day. It's wholemeal though.” Tamwar felt the dark-haired guy looking at him. “It's a bit of an acquired taste.”

“Yeah, you know, the way cardboard is?” John piped in, making a face.

Tamwar liked brown bread, didn't get to eat it nearly often enough. “No, I like it.” He turned to the guy in the leather jacket – well the guy who'd been _wearing_ the leather jacket... “May I have a slice?”

“Oh and the rest, Tam. Since when have you been able to stop at just the one slice?”

“Er, since I hit puberty?” Syed really hadn’t changed at all – still bloody embarrassing him in public! Okay, yes, he did embarrass Syed, too, but that was different – he was _inep_ t, that's all, didn't actually do it on purpose!

“Anyone else having some?” The guy who'd been wearing the leather jacket was holding the pot in one hand, serving spoon in another. When no-one took him up on his offer he began to ladle the soup into 3 bowls. It smelled delicious.

“That smells really good. Who made it?”

“Oh my company makes the soup – brought some up with me.” He began to arrange bread on a plate.

“Oh. You work for a company that makes soup?”

“Amongst other things. Why don't you take a seat, Tamwar? And help yourself to bread and butter.”

Not needing a second invitation, Tamwar sat at the long counter, wondering why he'd brought the soup with him, and where he'd brought it up _from_. He'd seemed like Syed's friend, but he wasn't a student, and he'd travelled up from somewhere else... Tamwar was confused, not to say burning with curiosity as to how _exactly_ this guy fit into the household.

As he sipped his soup and watched Syed and the guy doing the same, shoulder to shoulder, deep into the other's personal space, Tamwar figured that there'd be absolutely no point asking his brother. No, he'd ask the leather jacketed guy instead; no way anyone else would be as bloody cagey as Syed, so there was a really good chance he'd actually get some answers _before_ being bundled on the next train heading south...

 

**

 

When he volunteered to wash up he saw the look Syed gave him and returned it with innocent blankness...

 

**

Syed and his friend had disappeared somewhere – Syed's room, he guessed. Well, he did want to spend time with them, but while he'd been washing up, the others had been including him in their exchanges, so he didn't really feel uncomfortable with them. He did need the loo, though.

Directed to the guest lavatory he saw that there several bedrooms downstairs. This place really was huge. Syed was so lucky. Mum wouldn't be impressed, though. No, since she probably didn't want _any_ of them to _ever_ feel comfortable anywhere but home: she'd want every student lodgings to be a rat-infested hovel, simply to prove just how good they had it!

Annoyed with himself for so carelessly falling into thoughts of home when he'd been doing his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and wanting to share the pain, Tamwar resolved to corner Syed and basically, well basically manipulate him into letting him stay a little longer – overnight at least. He knew that the leather jacketed guy would be on his side, would try – and probably succeed – to persuade Syed to let him stay, so it was as well to ensure that _he_ was part of the conversation.

And no, it wasn't wrong – Syed had _told_ him that he should try to be a little more devious, so, well then...

Syed's room was at the far end of the corridor, and though it was enough of a walk to allow a person to change their mind if they were about to do something foreign to their nature, it wasn't long enough to allow that person to have an actual monologue in which they eventually talked themselves out of taking that action...

Well Syed was laughing so that was a plus – he was always easier to get round when he was laughing... This was probably going to be a lot easier than he thought. A _lot_ easier.

He gave a cursory knock before pushing open the door. “Syed, I was thinking-” He broke off as the words struggled to leave his suddenly dry mouth...


	6. Chapter 6

“Tamwar, wait...” Syed was hurrying down the long corridor after him, his voice low and urgent.

“Sorry, I should have knocked. I'm going back downstairs.” He was doing his best to keep his own voice entirely neutral, hoping that if they both pretended nothing had happened then the matter would not need to be addressed. “I'd better call mum.”

“Tamwar!” Syed took hold of his arm and stopped him. “Tamwar.”

“Look, Syed, I really shouldn't have come. You've got your own life to live and that's alright – it's none of my business...” He broke off, looked Syed in the eye, and said nothing.

Syed seemed equally bereft of words, his fingers unconsciously stroking his brother's arm.

In the distance Tamwar saw the leather jacketed man – Syed's friend – appear in the doorway of Syed's room. Tamwar met his concerned stare head on, still trying to be neutral. “Your friend's waiting for you.”

Not turning, Syed said: “I know, but we need to talk, Tam. Please.”

With a sigh Tamwar shook his head. “You don't need to explain anything, Syed. It's none of my business, like I said.”

“Of course it is – you're my brother, you deserve an explanation.”

Tamwar, unable to help himself, snorted. “Actually I think it's pretty self-explanatory or do you think there's _another_ explanation for snogging another bloke other than that you're gay?” He could tell that Syed wanted to give him an earful for being a smartarse, but was aware that _he_ was the one holding all the cards and that Syed was going to be treading on eggshells for the next little while. Just imagine if he'd been Shabnam or someone equally spiteful – he could have had a bloody field day!

Syed let go of his arm, moving back slightly. “Tam, it's not that simple.”

“Okay, stop. Syed, please don't lie to me; don't treat me like your kid brother who needs to be protected from the big bad world. How long's it been since you really sat down and _talked_ to me – properly, I mean – talked to me like I had a functioning brain between my ears; like I was 14 and not 6? I know all about homosexuality, all about gayness. Yeah, mum would like to _pretend_ we all live in some Ideal Islamic Idyll – and yes I'm aware of the alliteration – like I said – not 6 years old – but that's her, it's not me and it's not Shab either. If I'm honest it did cross my mind that you might be a _bit_ gay. No, don't worry, you didn't give anything away, it was more about putting the pieces together and realising that they sort of didn't exactly add up. But it wasn't anything that kept me awake at night or anything. It was more like: 'I wonder if Syed's gay?' and then not thinking any more about it.” He shrugged now. “It's not that I’m _shocked_ , Syed, it's more that I'm embarrassed. I'd rather not see my brother with his … well even with a girl it's something I wouldn't want to see. And I'm not sure I can look him...” His chin indicated the guy who was still standing in the doorway. “In the eye any time soon so- Ow! What you doing? Stop!”

 Syed had hold of him again, and despite his protests Tamwar found himself engulfed in a rare Syed embrace.

 Oh great. So now that his brother was gay, did that mean he was going to be all touchy feely now, because really he'd rather he was _straight_ in that case...

**

Well he still didn't want to look the guy in the eye, but despite being a little shorter and a whole lot skinnier than him Syed was strong – and determined – and Tamwar found himself being led back to Syed's room for a proper introduction, oh and a nice long talk no doubt. Well he still liked the guy, just didn't know if he still saw him as cool now he knew he was gay.

“Tamwar, I never pegged you as the sprinting type, had you down as more the marathon type...” The guy had had _plenty_ of opportunity to button his shirt, but didn’t appear to have taken any of them. So the issue of looking him in the eye had pretty much just resolved itself: if he didn't look him in the eye he'd have to look him in the _chest_ and since _he_ wasn't gay didn't take particular pleasure from staring at another bloke's nipples...

“It wasn't a sprint – just a fast...”

“Saunter?”

“Well, no, I definitely wasn't sauntering.”

“No he definitely wasn't – I had to run to catch him up!”

The shirtless guy (well he was wearing the shirt, just he may as well _not_ have been!) laughed. His eyes were green. Tamwar stared, more fascinated now he knew he was Syed's... special friend. “And Sy doesn't like getting out of breath. Do you, Sy?”

“Christian!” Tamwar couldn't help thinking that Syed sounded ridiculously prissy, especially in light of what he'd been doing a few minutes earlier. Tamwar honestly wondered if he knew his brother at all. “He's 14 okay?” He was making a face at his friend, eyes clearly saying: 'do not embarrass me in front of my kid brother!'

The guy turned his focus on to Tamwar. “Oh I think Tamwar and I understand each other. Right, Tamwar?”

For a moment Tamwar stared back, wondering how and why he was being brought into this. So far as he was aware he and the guy had no special understanding at all, but maybe it wasn't meant to be as complicated as that, maybe he was being _literal,_ for they did kind of understand each other, had done from the start. Well Okay then... “Well, yeah, if we're talking about one human being to another, then yeah we do understand each other.”

This made the guy crack up and the two brothers watched in silence as he proceeded to laugh himself silly.

This guy was so completely different from the miserable brother Tamwar had grown up with that he found himself actually wondering if that thing about opposites attracting did in fact contain a kernel of truth...

 

**

 

Gay or straight he was cool – ultra cool. Tamwar couldn’t really understand why he'd thought that being gay would take away from his charisma. Didn't even make sense; not like he hadn’t, in fact, been gay when Tamwar had thought he was straight (and he'd only presumed straightness by default). _He_ hadn't changed, the only thing that had changed was Tamwar's perception of him and since he didn't actually understand the _logic_ of homophobia didn't see the fact that he liked guys and not girls as having any bearing on the fact that he was the coolest person he'd ever met.

He was sure that had he not been there things between him and Syed might have been a bit awkward – more awkward – instead it'd been fun – funny even, _despite_ the fact that he ended up learning more about being gay than he'd actually had any desire to!

He didn’t really care that Syed had known he was attracted to other boys since he was 11 years old and had been struggling to come to terms with it ever since. Obviously it must have been hard, would still be hard, but none of that mattered now he'd met someone he liked, had told his friends he was gay. Tamwar certainly wasn't interested in hearing him bellyaching about coming out to mum and dad nor about being gay and Muslim. At least he no longer had to bloody marry and have sons to keep the family line going.

You know what, maybe _he_ should become attracted to other guys too...

**

“Valentine's? You celebrate that?” He did try to keep the mild scorn from his voice, but come on, how soppy was that!

“Oh you'll find that gay guys are the most romantic on the planet!” The guy – Christian – had finally managed to close a few buttons on the shirt, but was still looking a bit... Well Tamwar wasn't an expert on these things – _obviously_ – but he suspected that he didn’t look like this when he was in a business meeting or walking around the shops. Well, maybe a _gay_ shop...

“Well.. Hmm, so I interrupted a romantic Valentine's meal for two then? Sorry.” And he was, just still thought it was a bit bloody soppy.

“Well to be fair you didn't _interrupt_ it – the table's still booked...” Christian was looking expectantly at Syed.

Syed looked at Tamwar, then back at Christian. “I have to get him home.”

“No, you don't,” he put in quickly.

“Tamwar...”

“No, listen, why don't you go have your romantic meal and then you can take me home tomorrow or something? I'd feel terrible if I spoiled things for you.” Well this was blatant manipulation, of course, and he really didn't expect to get away with it...

“I tell you what, Sy – you bunk in with me tonight over at the Mildred and Tamwar can have your bed for the night. He's met everyone here – they'll look after him – and tomorrow we'll take him on the town before I drive him home.”

He and Christian waited in tense silence for Syed's response.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE WILL BE AN EPILOGUE

 

 

 

“Tam, why don't you wait for me downstairs? I won't be long.”

“Syed-” he began, but Syed cut him off, firm hand under his elbow leading him toward the door.

“I won't be long,” he repeated, smiling reassuringly into his brother's face.

“No, maybe not, but you're going to talk yourself.” He looked at Christian. “And him into sending me home. Syed, please. I want to stay. It'll only be for one night. I just need a break from home. Please?”

“Tam...” He was weakening, Tamwar could sense it, but Syed was so stubborn that he'd probably _force_ himself to stay firm, just because.

“I absolutely _promise_ to be good. I'll stay in your room; won't look at any of your stuff; won't touch anything. I absolutely promise, Syed. Please.”

Syed did not look at all convinced. How crazy was that? He was being so completely sincere and his own brother wasn't buying it. Was he _known_ to be an unreliable, silver-tongued rogue like other people he could mention, but wouldn't? (not that Syed was a rogue, exactly, but silver-tongued liar was a fairly apt description) No, of course not. If anything he was the exact _opposite_ of that: Syed should know that if he gave his promise it should be taken at face value, so why was he looking at him like someone he was trying to catch in a lie?

“Oh I wouldn't bother, Tamwar. Not looking at his stuff, I mean.” Christian was lounging insouciantly on the bed. “His 'stuff' is ultra boring. _My_ 'stuff' on the other hand... Now if you want to see some really cool stuff have a gander at _my_ stuff.”

Christian winked at him behind Syed's back, expression changing as Syed turned to glare at him. Tamwar smiled. If anyone could persuade Syed...

“He does not _want_ to have a 'gander at' your stuff.” Syed was trying to sound stern, but Tamwar had the feeling that the way Christian was lounging and smiling at him was making that hard to achieve or maintain. “And I thought you were only up for the weekend? How much 'stuff' did you bring with you?” Shoving Christian's legs to one side Syed dropped on to the bed beside him.

Tamwar rolled his eyes and looked elsewhere when Christian leaned in for a quick kiss.

It was pretty amusing really: Syed who'd so much rather pretend to be all cool and uninvolved and Christian being the exact opposite of that, getting a rise out of him at will, so it seemed.

Tamwar didn't really know why Syed wanted to pretend that this guy, who was clearly his boyfriend, _wasn't_ his boyfriend, in that they didn't snog or show affection toward each other, when it had been bloody established that they were into each other, you know, being _boyfriends_ and that...

But Syed had always been like that – always wanted to look cool, act cool. Even when he'd had girls after him he'd been so, so careful to be all detached and amused by their attention. Well obviously Tamwar understood _why_ now, but even if he'd been straight or even if the girls had been boys Tamwar thought his brother would have been the same way. Mr. Bloody Cool. Ridiculous.

“Where do you live?” The question was addressed to Christian, who was still amusing himself teasing Syed.

He looked up at Tamwar briefly before returning his attention to Syed, who if Tamwar wasn't clearly, clearly _hallucinating_ was ...simpering...simpering like a besotted teenage girl! “I live in Brighton.”

“Oh.” He was surprised. Christian wasn't a southerner, that was obvious. “You've got a local accent.”

“Born and bred, but the job took me down south and the business was established down there. It's my life now, but-” He took a lock of Syed's hair and twined it around his finger. “I miss this place like hell when I'm away.”

Tamwar, forewarned by the thing with the hair looked away the better to be able to avoid whatever soppy incident followed next.

Somehow, somehow – in his own perfect time – he was going to rib the _hell_ out of Syed for this.

Belated revenge for all the years and years of teasing? Oh you'd better believe it!

**

Syed wanted to get rid of him, that was obvious, but luckily he had a very gracious partner who _understood_ that Tamwar wanted to hang out with the cool kids just a little longer and went out of his way to not only include, but to make him feel wanted too.

He must have been jealous of the limited time he had to spend with Syed yet never gave even a hint that Tamwar was in the way – unlike his misery of a brother!

If not for the obvious improbability of the thing he'd have been far happier claiming _Christian_ as his one and only brother! Turned out that Christian didn't have any brothers and he'd told Tamwar that he wanted to adopt him and take him back south with him. He'd opened his mouth to say what a fantastic idea he thought that was, but Syed, arms folded, _daring_ him to take liberties had changed his mind. Shame really – that would have been the perfect solution to so many of his problems!

He'd missed them that night. He enjoyed hanging out with Syed's housemates, but they still sort of treated him more like a kid than Christian did, and it had felt a bit awkward after a while.

It was Christian who'd phoned him later that night, checking in, though not making it obvious (which Tamwar appreciated ) telling him not to sleep in as they were treating him to breakfast.

Breakfast had been a rather loud, raucous affair, both of them in high spirits though Tamwar hesitated to speculate on _why_ that might be! He'd spent long enough the previous night haunted by images of a really camp older gay brother (if he cross-dressed would he wear a Kameez? Would he wear make-up? Would their mum help him pick out the perfect scarf?), unable to shake the images, nuts though they were. He had no bloody idea why Syed would, all of a sudden, become camp, but his psyche was obviously more prone to falling for stereotypes than he was! Funny thing was that while Syed had got camper and yet even more camp, Christian had in contrast got cooler and cooler.

Well, Christian _was_ cool, and Syed...was not...

**

It was while Syed had been off phoning their mum – again – that Christian had given Tamwar his mobile number and told him to call him any time, to not ever feel that there was no-one he could turn to when things got on top of him.

Neither of them had said anything about keeping this from Syed, but Tamwar felt that they both knew that it was probably better to. Tamwar couldn't honestly say he understood what love meant to other people, but he did, he supposed, understand what it meant to want to protect those you were close to. He assumed that Christian wanted to somehow protect Syed from Tamwar's unhappiness by taking them on his own shoulders. They both knew that should Syed ever get wind of any of this he'd go spare, but he trusted Christian’s judgement and trusted that he'd _tell_ Syed when he felt the time was right. For his part he simply felt immense gratitude to know that someone he liked and admired cared enough – _understood_ enough – to offer him a lifeline whenever he needed one.

Syed was lucky, and for once Tamwar felt that he wasn't taking this as his due; that he didn't think he had a _right_ to it just because. He was different around Christian – sort of humble, sort of shy – which was so different to the way he generally was with everyone else that Tamwar spent whole minutes gaping at him, happy to see him happy, but still a bit taken aback all the same.

Not even the conversation with their mother had dented him for long, and he hadn't even glanced at Tamwar this time before inviting a kiss from Christian.

“How'd it go?” Christian was squeezing his waist.

“As well as could be expected.” He fixed Tamwar with a stern stare. “Be abjectly apologetic – no smartarseness.”

“Of course not!”

Syed glared and Christian stifled a grin.

 

**

Cool car, he'd asked if he could ride up front with Christian. Christian had said 'sure', Syed had said 'No! Get in. Now!'

Back seat to himself he'd listened to them talk about Christian’s business and some holiday they were planning, but had found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open.

In his dream Syed had been wearing a kameez – a deep pink one – and he and Christian had got married, his mother throwing white rose petals over their heads...

He couldn't _swear_ to it, but he was pretty sure _he'd_ been wearing a bear suit...


End file.
